Pain
by TMNT-Queen
Summary: Sometimes it's just too much to deal with. (Rated T for some coarse language.)
1. 1

**~ 1 ~**

He stared out at the cityscape, the lights below illuminating the lines of weariness on his face. His gaze was distant, his thoughts a million miles away.

He'd been through every hellish scenario imaginable in his relatively short lifespan. He'd fought in battles and been left with countless wounds that eventually turned into scars and then faded altogether.

But the scars on his heart never went away. The nightmares never ceased. The guilt and stress ate away at him day by day until there was nothing left in their wake but sorrow and pain.

Oh, yes. Pain. Too much pain.

Normally, he could bury it within himself, lock it away so it couldn't torture him. Some days he could ignore it completely.

But tonight was different, he thought, turning his attention to the two six-packs sitting on the rooftop next to him. He picked up a bottle of the cheap beer and gazed at it for a moment before sighing and twisting open the cap. He pressed the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. Consequences be damned.

Tonight, Hamato Leonardo wanted to hurt.


	2. 2

~ **2 ~**

Raph was used to the routine by now - after all, it had been going on for weeks. He'd never said anything to the others about it, because he figured Leo just needed some time to be himself.

He would watch the leader sneak out of the Lair late at night, and would be sitting on the couch when Leo stumbled in several hours later - his body exhausted, his cobalt eyes full of anguish he could never really manage to hide.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Leo didn't come home on time. A spike of fear shot through Raph's system and he anxiously paced back and forth for two hours before he heard the grinding of the Lair's door as it opened.

And then Leo staggered into the room. He stumbled and would've fallen if the brawler wasn't there to catch him. "Leo, what the hell?!" One sniff of the turtle that reeked of alcohol and sweat and Raph had all the information he needed. "Yer drunk!"

"Just announce it to the world," came the slightly slurred reply.

Fiery green eyes narrowed. "How much've ya had ta drink?"

"...six." And stashed the other six-pack away in case of emergency. But Raph didn't need to know that.

"Damn it, bro. Ya know what Splinta would say if he found out?"

And there it was - a flash of panic across the leader's face. "Don't tell the others," he rasped. "Please."

"I think I can do whateva the hell I want ta do right now. Ya ain't exactly in a place ta bargain with me."

"Raph-"

"Y'know, I've kept quiet 'bout you goin' out on yer own. I thought ya could handle yerself. But this...this is somethin' entirely different, Leo. This is a problem."

Leo's cobalt eyes filled with fear and something else. Shame. "I know it was wrong. I just...I couldn't help myself. I needed to...to drown it out."

"Drown what out?"

"Everything." For just a moment, the inebriated turtle looked like himself. A weak, sad smile appeared on his lips. "It hurt too damn much tonight," he whispered. "Couldn't handle it."

At that moment, Raph understood. He understood _perfectly._ And all plans to tell the others went out the window. Because the Leo across from him wasn't the calm, cool, collected leader. The Leo across from him was scared. Broken. In pain.

His brother, his _best friend,_ was hurting.

So Raph just hauled him up and helped him get to his room, then slipped him a couple Tylenol to ease the hangover that was coming. He settled in on the floor, waiting for the leader to fall asleep.

And in the morning, he would give an excuse to the others. He would cover for Leo, yes, but he would make sure that Leo never had to do this again. Next time the blue-banded turtle needed release, Raph would make sure Leo came to him.

After all, he was no stranger to pain.


	3. 3

**~ 3 ~**

The pounding in his skull did nothing to block out the memory of the night before. How he'd slowly made his way home, falling asleep several times in various alleyways before jerking awake and getting up again, only to find an extremely worried red-masked brother pacing the living room floor when he walked into the Lair. That same brother threatening to spill all his secrets because it had become "a problem."

It had only become a problem when Leo had discovered that he couldn't handle everything. That he wasn't superhuman.

He shook his head at the irony of that realization. He wasn't capable of living like a human, and he wasn't capable of extraordinary feats. _I'm just...worthless, I suppose. Typical._

A sigh escaped his desert-dry mouth and he climbed out of bed, deciding to face the music. But when he got to the living room, he found only Raph waiting for him, staring intently at a wrestling match on TV.

"They ain't here," the brawler said without even glancing in his direction. "April called an' asked if they wanted ta come ova' fer some dinner."

"Dinner?" Leo repeated, his eyes widening. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven. Ya slept the day away."

"B-But...what about training? Meditation? What did you tell the others?" Icy dread coated the leader's stomach as he waited for the answer.

"I said ya had a migraine and that I'd given ya some meds already. They know how nasty yer headaches get, so they didn't question it too much."

For a moment, Leo was silent. He didn't - _couldn't_ \- understand why Raph had lied. Especially not based on what he said last night. "You covered for me...why?"

Raph's expression grew uncharacteristically soft as he finally turned to face his twin. "Because I've been there. I know what it's like ta drown yerself in a bottle. Ta come home smashed and hafta deal with it the next day. Ta take responsibility fer everythin' when the proverbial shit hits the fan."

Ordinarily, the blue-banded ninja would've berated him for swearing. But this was no ordinary occurrence, they both knew - though it happened more often than Raph suspected.

"Well...thank you."

"Yer welcome." The room lapsed into silence for a moment before Raph broke it again. "I do have one condition though. A favor ta ask in return."

"What's that?"

"Come ta me next time, before ya even think 'bout pickin' up a beer. We're brothers, Leo. We should be able ta talk ta each otha. 'specially 'bout somethin' like this."

Leo bit his lip, swallowing against the lump in his now very dry throat. "Okay," he whispered eventually.

"Good. Now, come sit down. John Cena's gonna be up soon and I wanna watch him get his ass kicked ta Jersey'n back."

The leader chuckled a little, taking a seat next to his hotheaded sibling. Raph glanced at him sidelong.

"I was thinkin' 'bout orderin' a pizza. Any particular toppings ya want?"

For the second time that night, Leo was surprised - albeit pleasantly so. "You're letting me pick the toppings?"

"Hey, hey, hey. Slow down there, Mr. I'm-so-hungover-I-can't-think-straight. I asked what kind of toppings ya wanted. Didn't say you'd definitely be gettin' 'em." But there was a twinkle in Raph's neon green eyes.

"Fine. If I had to _suggest_ some toppings, I suppose I'd pick cheese."

"Pfft. That's lame. C'mon, Mike an' Don ain't here. Ya can afford ta live a little. It's just pizza toppings. Ain't there some ya've always wanted ta try?"

"We-ell..." Leo paused, considering. "How about barbecue pizza?"

The brawler lit up. "Now yer talkin'!" He jumped off the couch and hurried to the kitchen to place the order, leaving a grinning Leonardo in his wake.

Despite the hangover, it was the first time in months that any of his brothers had gotten him to laugh. And it felt good.


End file.
